


Jar Of Hearts (Ripped Apart)

by c0cunt



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Era, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Kerberos Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 07:24:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13585161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt
Summary: Shiro is gone.  The Garrison stopped looking for the Kerberos team.  All Keith has left is a jar of paper scraps that Shiro gave him before launch.





	Jar Of Hearts (Ripped Apart)

**Author's Note:**

> this was one of the many prompts that i found while scrolling through tumblr, and my heart shattered at the idea of shiro leaving keith a jar of hearts with little love confessions on them.  
> so of course, i had to share it with y'all

The jar was just sitting there, _taunting_ Keith, as he snatched up his meager belongings from the barracks.  He only had so much time until security would escort him off the premises, after all - the Garrison didn’t want their _“rising star turned drop out”_ to stick around too long.  But then again, that jar had been taunting him since Shiro...There was a sharp knock on the barrack door, followed by a barked “one minute, Kogane.”  With gritted teeth, Keith snatched up his tiny rucksack, and, after hesitating for a moment, the jar was shoved hastily into the bag’s remaining space, shaking up the colored paper within.  With a lump in the back of his throat, Keith left the room and led the way off of Garrison grounds, ignoring security and the gathered cadets as he left one of the few places he felt closer to Shiro.  
  


 

Two days into Keith’s expulsion, and already he had crawled back.  With a legitimate reason, at least:  He held the keys to Shiro’s hoverbike, and _no one_ from the Garrison would keep him from getting it back.  The security guard at the hangar where all vehicles were kept gave Keith a pitying look, but merely told Keith to move fast.  Probably the only act of kindness he would get if he stayed on Garrison property.  With that thought in mind, Keith practically scrambled to the spot that he and Shiro had parked it last, breathing a sigh of relief as he pulled the plastic cover off of it.  Exactly as Shiro had left it, mudstained and everything, with Shiro’s helmet still on the seat.

 

With shaking hands, Keith ran a hand over the body of the hoverbike, as the other hovered over Shiro’s helmet.  It wasn’t a fancy helmet, just a plain black one that was probably offered with the bike’s purchase, but.  Keith couldn’t wear it.  Instead, he tucked it against his chest as he started up the bike, the tiniest smile lifting the edges of his mouth as it roared to life.  Something in Keith’s chest roared back, as he slipped onto the bike, and nearly crashed through the front of the hangar when the security guard almost hadn’t raised the door high enough.  He felt alive.  He felt free.  And he felt closer to Shiro, almost hearing his boyfriend chastise him for not putting the spare helmet on.

  


 

The shack in the desert was his home again, for now.  It had surprised Keith when he had rediscovered it with Shiro, a year ago, but.  The surprise wasn’t there now, just dust and bittersweet memories.

  


 

The town near the Garrison didn’t remember Keith, but it did remember the name Kogane.  The interviews at the flower shop, coffee shop, and bookkeeper with “help wanted” signs in the window had all gone well and good, up until Keith’s last name came into the picture.  The interviewers blanched, shifted nervously, before saying they had to speak with someone else.  Several claimed to want to help him, they really did!...But they couldn’t connect themselves with his father’s name.  It was all a load of shit, in Keith’s opinion.  He survived before, and he could do it again.  


Bone weary, Keith returned to the shack, blowing air into his hands to keep them warm as the desert temperatures dropped.  The interior would stay warm for a few hours after the sun set, at least.  Keith wasn’t sure how he felt about remembering how to get the finicky heater to work, knocking on the outside twice before flipping the breaker.  Either way, he sighed in relief as the old thing shuddered to life, forcing his way into the old building.  

 

Just as he’d left it, his knapsack of spare clothes, and the jar, were all the personal belongings that were there.  Everything was almost exactly how it had been left, the last time Keith had ventured inside; he wasn’t sure if it was nostalgia or anger that created the lump in the back of his throat as he surveyed the room, and he didn’t want to examine why on either.  He sat down on the edge of the futon as he tugged his stuff close, feeling very much like an outsider as his eyes ghosted over the titles of the books still stacked on the shelf.  Drowsing, but at least warm, Keith’s last coherent thought was that he was at least sure that he’d changed more than his former home had.

  


  

Maybe Keith hadn’t changed as much as he’d thought, when he was out the door as soon as it was light enough to see by.  Shiro’s hoverbike needed fuel, and at least the pity of the people in town got him a full tank for free, as well as a tiny reusable bag of food that was handed to him by an equally tiny old woman who appeared particularly saddened at Keith’s appearance.  She had already tottered off before Keith could thank her, and he held the bag felt awkwardly while on Shiro’s bike (even though, Keith clearly remembered holding a picnic basket that Shiro had packed for them while riding, on one of their off days, easily).  With anxiety clawing at his belly, Keith returned back to the shack, dumping the bag of food onto the table, and knocked into the jar of paper.

 

Keith practically threw himself on the ground to catch the jar, even though it had barely even wobbled.  Blowing out a breath of frustration, Keith glared up at it as he shuffled into a sitting position.  Shiro had told him to wait until Valentine’s day to open it, before...Keith swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat, frustration making him try to choke it down and making him gag instead.  Shiro had thought about him _that far_ in advance, had sat down and done...Whatever was in the jar.

 

But.  Pilot error.  The Garrison wasn’t searching anymore.  Shiro was gone.  Tentatively, Keith pulled the jar into his lap, and unscrewed the lid, staring into it as if it was full of salt and barbed wire.  Most of the paper scraps were lightly colored pinks or reds, and Keith had initially thought that was because red was his favorite color, but.  He plucked one of the scraps out, and realized with a jolt that they were folded paper hearts.  Valentine’s day.  This would’ve been his gift.

 

Keith felt his eyes burn as he turned one of the larger paper hearts over in his hands.  Shiro had once mentioned that he knew how to make a few paper crafts, courtesy of all the time he’d spent with his aunts as a child, and the thought almost made Keith smile.  Turning the heart over, he felt his heart thump when he spotted Shiro’s sharp handwriting in between two folds.  Eagerly, delicately, Keith unfolded the heart, blinking rapidly as he fought to see what was written.

 

_“Last night, you fell asleep while we were watching a movie.  You looked so peaceful and beautiful.  I’m already anticipating this mission ending so I can come back to you.”_

 

The little paper in his hand blurred, and Keith choked on a half breath as he looked down at the jar again.  It was _filled_ to the brim with paper hearts of various sizes, and blindly, he reached for another one.

 

_“I love your smile.  Save me one for when I get back?”_

 

The next one.

 

_“Tomorrow we launch.  I don’t want to leave.”_

 

And another one.

 

_“I know that being public with our relationship isn’t really something you're comfortable with. But when I get back, the first thing I want to do back on Earth, is hold you, even if it is in front of everyone.”_

 

With a snarl, Keith upended the jar, and shoved the opened hearts out of his lap.  A flurry of pinks and reds splashed across the floor, and Keith felt his own heart spill open again as a fresh wave of emotion pressed his face into empty palms.  It was _unbearable,_ having these little tokens of Shiro right in his lap, when Shiro was _gone._  The memory of _pilot error_ forever stamped underneath Shiro’s face, condemning him, forced a sob out of Keith’s throat.  A shudder ran through his body, and he dug the balls of his palms into his wet eyes, ignoring the drops that fell and dribbled down his arms.

 

And Keith finally let himself have this.  In the weeks since the first report of not being able to contact the Kerberos mission, since the first flash of _pilot error_ on the screen, he hadn’t allowed himself to release what was bottling up.  It had exploded out against Iverson the day he was expelled, but aside from that...It was _cathartic,_ sobbing into his own hands, surrounded by the last things Shiro had worked on, for _him_.  Shiro was well and truly gone, but at least Keith knew now that his feelings were mutual.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please let me know what you thought of it!  
> (and you can find me on twitter or tumblr under the same username if you wanna yell at me)


End file.
